Classical Music

Whenever a definition is made in an attempt to distinguish one artistic concept from others, such delineation becomes an art in itself and is sometimes artificial. Music, let alone the musical genre of the art song, is no exception. Catch-all headings make matters easier. The two song cycles on this release certainly qualify as art songs. Ludwig van Beethoven wrote his opus 98 in 1816; musicologists commonly describe An die ferne Geliebte (to the distant beloved) as the first ever song cycle. Franz Schubert wrote his Schwanengesang (swan song) in 1828, the year of his death; the songs were posthumously made into a collection. In terms of its musicological and sociological development, the Lied, having long been considered “inferior,” underwent a kind of emancipation process throughout the early modern period up until the start of the 19th century, when the emergence of the educated middle-class, particularly in the German-speaking world, allowed the new genre to take root. Such songs were performed at small venues too: in salons, small halls and before audiences that were not necessarily aristocratic of courtly. Dynamically versatile and affordable, the piano was now a common keyboard instrument and was often used to accompany the vocalist with supportive harmonies and melodic counterpoint.

Arnold Mendelssohn's compositional oeuvre essentially encompasses all the major musical genres. He wrote three symphonies, a violin concerto, a cello concerto, numerous chamber pieces, three operas, a variety of sacred and secular cantatas and oratorios, around 170 songs and piano and organ music. This release features the world premier recording of the complete solo piano works of Arnold Mendelssohn. The pianist Elzbieta Sternlicht began her studies at the State Music Academy in Warsaw with Zbigniew Drzewiecki, and continued them in Paris with Vlado Perlemuter and Suzanne Roche. She has given concerts, master courses, workshops and radio broadcast performances throughout western and eastern Europe as well as in North and South America and Asia. She has released several critically-acclaimed albums, including world premiere recordings of the complete solo piano works of Josef Koffler.

Classical Music

"The Baroque Soloists, Munich are among the best mixed ensembles in the field of historically informed performance practice A program of some of Vivaldi‘s less familiar concertos for various instruments The members of the Baroque Soloists Munich are in high demand as soloist, orchestral and chamber musicians on the early music scene"

Florian Uhlig draws near the conclusion of the first truly complete edition of the solo piano music of Robert Schumann with this 9th installment in the series featuring the Kinderszenen op. 15 and the Novelletten op. 21 surrounding hitherto largely neglected contemporaneous pieces. An exclusive hännsler Classic artist praised for his cohesive concert programs, Mr. Uhlig made his orchestral debut at the London Barbican in 1997, and since then a busy performing schedule has taken him to the concert halls of Berlin, New York, London and Paris, as well as Hong Kong, Reykjavik and Cape Town.

Classical Music

In 2011 Thomas Fey was nominated for a Grammy for his world premiere recordings of the music of Antonio Salieri. Every new release of Haydn symphonies from Thomas Fey and his ensemble is greeted with enthusiasm; truly this is how Haydn should sound today. To bring this about, Fey's musicians bridge past and present, performing both on modern string instruments and replicas of authentic period woodwind, brass and percussion instruments.

There is nothing immature about the earliest Haydn symphonies, which in style straddle the older Italian overture and Baroque musical world while simultaneously looking forward to exciting new melodic and rhythmic developments of the Classical era.

HONEGGER Jeanne d’Arc au bûcher • Helmuth Rilling, cond; Sylvie Rohrer ( Jeanne d’Arc ); Eörs Kisfaludy ( Fr. Dominique ); Karen Wierzba ( La Vierge ); Letizia Scherrer ( Marguerite ); Kismara Pessatti ( Cathérine ); Jean-Noël Briend (ten); François Le Roux (bs); Stuttgart College Boys’ Ch; Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart; Stuttgart RSO des SWR • HÄNSSLER 098.636 (2 CDs: 84:30 & French only) Live: Stuttgart 4/2–3/2011


Here is, truly, an unusual release: the little-known but extremely powerful dramatic cantata by Arthur Honegger, Joan of Arc at the Stake, conducted by one of the world’s leading baroque specialists, Helmuth Rilling. This combination, which seems on the surface a mismatch, in fact results in one of the most emotionally powerful and musically atmospheric realizations on record in my entire memory.


The drawback, of course, is that the libretto is in French only. Certainly one is aware enough of Joan’s story to be able to follow what is going on in generalizations, yet the highly literate subtleties of Paul Claudel’s libretto are lost on the non-French speaker. Thus we must rely on the few words we can pick out of the booklet and rely on the emotional and dramatic power of the speakers, singers, chorus, and orchestra. Even within those parameters, this is pretty powerful music. Behind the spoken dialogue, at one point, the chorus enters singing strophic lines in almost Stravinsky-like neoclassicism, which then leads directly into a baritone solo with choral interjections. Honegger’s orchestra slashes and burns throughout: sometimes as an undercurrent, at other times in the foreground, moving from staccato brass chords to stabbing or swirling figures, underlining the drama of the situation—confined to the time of Joan’s trial and execution—in the most dramatic terms possible.


Conductor Marin Alsop has given us this synopsis of the oratorio at npr.org/2011/11/05/142021891/arthur-honeggers-joan-of-arc-for-the-ages:


“Claudel wanted to look at Joan’s life in a series of flashbacks—starting at the end. The piece opens with darkness setting over all of France. Is this the France of 1400 or the France of 1935? Perhaps that’s the point. Joan meets Frère Dominic in the afterlife and recognizes him, at which point they look back on what led to her trial and death. When Joan asks, ‘How did this happen?,’ Frère Dominic replies, ‘It was a game of cards that decided your fate,’ alluding to the political quagmire in which Joan, an illiterate peasant teenager, found herself immersed. The adjudicator at Joan’s trial was aptly named Cauchon (pig), and Claudel goes wild with the possibilities. The assessors are all depicted as animals, with the ass leading the pack and sheep commenting on the proceedings. And then there’s Honegger’s instrumentation, which creates a vibrant and unique sound world. He includes three saxophones plus an ondes martenot —a spooky-sounding instrument, invented in 1928, that sounds like its cousin the theremin. Honegger and Claudel’s collaboration brings Joan to life in a vivid and emotional drama that concludes with the line, ‘There is no greater love than the person who gives his life for a friend.’”


Alsop, as well as other commentators, allude to the “cinematic” quality of this opera-oratorio, mentioning that Honegger was also a film music composer. But if this is film music, it is extremely dominant in mood and structure, which to my ears is far too aggressive a composition to work well in that mode. Yet there is a certain “cinematic” structure to the work, which in effect makes it a “movie for the ears.” (One constantly hears nowadays that we “listen with our eyes,” so why not at least one piece where we “see with our ears”?) Alsop conducted a live performance of this work at the Barbican in 2011, but according to one online commentator the program notes for that performance were also spotty and indistinct.


I’ve been unable to track down an English translation of the text anywhere online. From what I can judge, between the French-only text and my slight grasp of the language, the actors in this recording are all extremely good, bringing out Joan’s combination of confusion, defiance, and fear perfectly. Much of the credit for this goes to Sylvie Rohrer, whose reading of the text is both dramatic and natural-sounding—a rare combination indeed. The singers are all excellent in both vocal quality and—more importantly—diction, as is the chorus itself. Despite being German, Rilling is to be highly commended for his persistence in bringing out the proper idiomatic Frenchness of the music as well as his insistence on clarity of pronunciation.


Particular credit for the success of this recording goes to engineer Friedemann Trumpp for capturing such incredible 3D sound.


There appear to be three other recordings available on CD: Supraphon 11 0557/58 featuring narrators Nelly Borgeaud and Michel Favory, sopranos Christiane Château and Anne-Marie Rodde, alto Huguette Brachet, and the Kühn Children’s Chorus, Czech Philharmonic Chorus and Orchestra conducted by Serge Baudo; a single-disc version (meaning under 80 minutes) with narrators Anne-Marie Ferrière, René Piloy, and Madeleine Joris, sopranos Marthe Dugard and Ria Lenssens, tenor Frédéric Anspach, and conductor Louis de Vocht (Opera d’Oro 1223); and another one-disc version conducted by Siegfried Heinrich (VMS Musical Treasures 152), none of which I’ve heard. I have, however, heard the recording by Sonia Petrovna, Michaël Lonsdale, Christian Papis, Anne-Marie Blanzat, other soloists, the Choeur de Rouen-Haute-Normande, and Orchestre Symphonique Français conducted by Laurent Petitgirard on Cascavelle OSF 49008/09. This was also a live performance, given on June 26 and 27, 1992 at the Salle Wagram in Paris. I could only find references to this recording on French CD sites like Price Minister and Amazon.fr. The sound quality is also excellent, and this performance, too, is wonderfully atmospheric, but none of the actors are recorded particularly well—they sound like they’re behind the choir. The actress playing Joan (Petrovna) is good, but does not declaim her text with as much feeling (perhaps she was an excellent actress visually, but on CDs you can’t see her). A very good performance, then, but this new Hänssler release is just as fine musically, better in the placement of the actors, and of course much easier to obtain, making it well worth getting. With the odd running time of this work, one could possibly combine it with the equally excellent but seldom-heard L’Amore de tre re of Montemezzi for a superb evening of dramatic works that will challenge and not just entertain you.


FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

Handel's Saul is an operatic oratorio with ever intensifying action and increasingly drastic scenes. Handel seems to have been especially moved by this particular text. He gives each of the five main soloists a distinctive profile. Even the vocal supporting roles are unique and intentionally individual. In none of his other oratorios does Handel call for a more differentiated orchestra. Alongside the strings, he uses oboes, recorders, bassoons, trumpets, timpani and trombones. For me, Saul is one of the great high points of Handel's works. All of the performers on this recording thoroughly enjoyed taking on the challenges brought forth by this music. - Helmuth Rilling

Classical Music

Classical Music

SALUT D’AMOUR • Chuanyun Li (vn); Robert Koenig (pn) • HÄNSSLER 98.278 (67:08)


DVO?ÁK Slavonic Dance, op. 72/2. KROLL Banjo and Fiddle. ELGAR Salut d’amour. BAZZINI La ronde des lutins. GLAZUNOV Raymonda: Intermezzo. SARASATE Zapateado. GLUCK Orfeo ed Euridice: Melody. PAGANINI Introduction and Variations on “Nel cor più non mi sento.” GERSHWIN (arr. Heifetz) It Ain’t Necessarily So. R. STRAUSS Violin Sonata


In how many programs does the obligatory sonata follow the encores (the jewel box lists the sonata first)? Chuanyun Li mixes simple and expressive numbers like Elgar’s Salut d’amour with virtuoso showstoppers like Paganini’s Variations on “Nel cor più non mi sento,” Bazzini’s Dance of the Goblins , and Sarasate’s Zapateado as an appetizer for the main course, Strauss’s concerto-like Violin Sonata. Those not familiar with Li from his playing on the soundtrack for the Chinese-produced movie, Together (and his appearance in the movie as a student emerging into the professional world playing Vieuxtemps’s Fifth Concerto), or from his video recordings produced by Bein and Fushi (both in a Ruggiero Ricci lesson and as a participant in a festival of Chinese violin music), should be struck in Hänssler’s issue of a 1999 recording he made at the Cincinnati Conservatory, by his soaring tone, his brilliant technical command, and his grasp of the many styles he’s assembled in his program. Idiomatic Elgar rubs shoulders with Slavonic Dvo?ák, darkly glowing Glazunov, and steamy Gershwin. Bazzini’s Ronde des lutins might as well have been retired for decades after Heifetz’s first recording of it in 1917; later recordings may have included all the notes but not the sizzle. Some, even as recent as Gil Shaham’s (24:3), seemed almost somber in comparison to the young Heifetz’s. Those who might not have heard that earlier recording might come to the end of Li’s with a very similar impression of overwhelming virtuosity coupled with heroic dash and élan. For example, at the section of notes repeated on each of four strings, some violinists simply struggle to play solidly, while Li manages to add tangy nuances. Glazunov’s Intermezzo offers many opportunities for portamentos, and violinists of earlier generations would have taken them with relish. So does Li, but never to the detriment of the music’s lyrical flow, which he builds in waves to a powerful climax. When the music settles to its quiet conclusion, he draws a pure tone from both strings in the final double-stops, a feat perhaps as difficult as the left-hand pizzicato in Bazzini’s Ronde . Li introduces stronger accents than Sarasate did into the Zapateado , and he adds some twangy timbral graces of his own. His performance goes beyond the heavier Russian style that became common in readings of the mercurial Sarasate; but, taken on its own terms, it’s a heady sprint to the finish. Heifetz and Milstein both played Gluck’s Melody, which Fritz Kreisler had arranged for violin and piano. Li’s performance matches theirs in elegance and warmth, and his special personal touches make it his own rather than a copy of theirs. Paganini’s Variations fare well in Li’s reading, sweetly lyrical in the manner of Rossini as devilish in the style of Locatelli. His gift for sumptuous melody alternates in this violinist’s compendium with his knack for brash pyrotechnics (which he fires off with surprising sweetness), and those mount to the conclusion in an unstoppable juggernaut.


Strauss’s early Sonata has been taken almost as a Concerto for Violin and Piano, and Heifetz (who reputedly tried to commission such a Concerto from Prokofiev) seemed always on the lookout for pieces he could play that way, like this one, Saint-Saëns’s First Sonata in D Minor, and Respighi’s. Memory of Heifetz remains strong, but Li manages to create his own forceful identity from the bold first movement. Arguably the slow movement of the Sonata makes a more glowing musical statement than does the slow movement of the (also youthful) Violin Concerto, and Li warms not only to its initial sentiment but also to its more agitated central section. He also seems comfortably at home in the finale’s broad rhetoric.


Here’s an old-fashioned violin recital with a Sonata thrown in to please everyone (the reverse of the usual procedure), and only those with almost unreasonably strong preferences should complain. It’s individual, brilliant, and musically both protean and probing—a substantial accomplishment for anyone, and certainly so for a 19-year-old. As Mischa Elman supposedly remarked to his accompanist, Joseph Seiger, when he heard Michael Rabin’s recording of Wieniawski’s First Concerto, that’s the way the violin should be played. Robert Koenig remains an insightful supporter through the many changes in style, and the lifelike recorded sound makes both players almost bodily present. Strongly recommended.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham

This is, hands down, the best version of these remarkable pieces yet recorded. Wolfram Christ, famous as a solo violist and principal in the Berlin Philharmonic, whips the strings of the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra into a frenzy in the quick movements, and wrings every drop of expressive angst from the more brooding slow movements. Consider, for example, the Adagio of Symphony No. 3, ostensibly in C major, with its tritonal shrieks and desolate, almost expressionist harmonies (sound clip). It’s an amazing work, and this recording does it full justice.

The performance style is what you might call “modified period practice.” Vibrato is used minimally–a mistake, of course, but not too serious a one in this context because all other aspects of the playing are so good. More importantly, the continuo part is finally played on C.P.E. Bach’s preferred instrument in lieu of the clavichord: the fortepiano. Truth be told, we have no evidence historically that these symphonies were ever performed with a fortepiano, but then, we have no evidence of how they were performed at all.

What these interpretations reveal, though, is what Tovey said nearly a century ago: that a fortepiano is even better than a harpsichord as an accompanying instrument for the same reason it’s better than a harpsichord at everything else. The variety of touch, articulation, and above all, dynamics makes it possible to accompany the strings without suddenly turning the music into a harpsichord concerto or, on the other hand, forcing the strings to restrict their own dynamics in order to accommodate the limitations of the continuo instrument.

These considerations are particularly valid today when, first, continuo players simply can’t resist embellishing their parts in a way which is wholly inauthentic and, as often as not, unstylish, and second, recording engineers invariably mike the continuo too loudly on the theory that everything the instrument does ought to be heard on the same plane as the folks who have the tune. At least with a fortepiano, sensitively played as here, the embellishments and balance issues never get in the way of the string ensemble. It blends harmoniously and mellifluously at all times. The result is simply wonderful, and surely closer to Bach’s intentions than more avowedly “authentic” versions if only because it’s so much more musical.

The opening of the B minor Symphony (No. 5 in the set) offers an excellent example of how attractive, how modern, the music sounds when performed in this fashion (sound clip). These symphonies were commissioned by Gottfried van Swieten (librettist of Haydn’s late oratorios) in 1773. He told Bach to write whatever he wanted, without regard for conventional stylistic or technical limitations. The result is an astounding series of passionate, spontaneous, and timeless pieces that finally sound that way. Surely you will want to own this gripping, even thrilling disc.

-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

DVORÁK Cypresses: 18 Songs for Voices and Piano (original version, 1865 1 ). Cypresses: 12 Songs for String Quartet (from original version, arr. Dvorák 2 ). Cypresses: 6 Songs for String Quartet (from original version, arr. Hans-Peter Dott 2 ) • 1 Marcus Ullmann (ten); 1 Martin Bruns (bar); 1 Andreas Frese (pn); 2 Bennewitz Qrt • HÄNSSLER 98641 (2 CDs: 81:05 Text and Translation)


Let me begin with just one swipe at Hänssler Classic, a label whose marketing practices I’ve questioned before. This entire program could fit onto a single CD. Discs of over 80 minutes, once rare, are now fairly common. A saving grace, however, is that as of now, mid-October 2012, ArkivMusic is selling the two-disc set for $26.99, which places it in the mid-price category on a per-disc basis. Hänssler is to be commended, however, for coming up with the idea of presenting Dvorák’s Cypresses complete in its original scoring as a song cycle for voices and piano, plus in its partial arrangement of 12 of the 18 songs for string quartet by the composer himself, and, in addition, in arrangements of the remaining six songs for string quartet by German composer Hans-Peter Dott (b. 1952). If anyone has done this before, it’s not reflected in any of the current listings I found. In fact, Dvorak’s string quartet arrangements far outnumber recordings of the song cycle.


Details of the song cycle’s path from composition to publication still remain a bit sketchy and open to some dispute. This much is known: Dvorák set the songs down on paper in 17 days between the 10th and 27th of July 1865. The 24-year-old composer was lovesick over one of his young pupils who didn’t share his feelings. So, like Mozart, Dvorák ended up settling for the girl’s younger sister, whom he eventually married. It’s hardly surprising then that the texts of the songs, taken from Cypresses: A Collection of Lyric and Epic Poems by Gustav Pfleger-Moravský, tell of unrequited love. Also generally agreed upon is that Dvorák intended eight of the songs—Nos. 1, 2, 5, 7, 8, 13, 14, and 15—to be sung by a tenor, while the remaining 10 songs—Nos. 3, 4, 6, 9, 10, 11, 12, 16, 17, and 18—were intended to be taken by a baritone, which is the way they’re divvied up on the disc.


But here’s where things get a bit dicey. It took Dvorák another 23 years, during which he arranged, rearranged, and otherwise tinkered with the songs, before he sent them to Simrock for publication in 1888 with the title, not Cypresses , but Love Songs , to which the opus number 83 was assigned. Yet a 2012 program note from the Chamber Music Society of Williamsburg unequivocally states that “Dvorák chose never to publish the songs in their original form, but material from several of the songs cropped up in his first two symphonies and in his operas and other vocal works.” Clearly, the songs were published in 1888, but I’m guessing that the discrepancy hinges on the words “in their original form,” for according to the imslp.org catalog of Dvorák’s complete works, the songs that were actually published were all third and fourth revisions of the originals. Meanwhile, a year earlier the composer selected 12 of the songs—Nos. 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 12, 14, 16, 17, and 18— and began reworking them for string quartet, keeping close to the original models. He made only some minor rhythmic adjustments, and only in one case did he change the key. He did, however, reorder the pieces in a different sequence from the original song cycle—6, 3, 2, 8, 12, 7, 9, 14, 4, 16, 17, 18—and titled his collection of quartet arrangements Echo of Songs . These were not published, however, until 1921, 17 years after Dvorák’s death.


This brings up another misunderstanding that has been perpetuated regarding Dvorák’s titling of both the published song cycle and the string quartet arrangements that remained unpublished in his lifetime. All Music Guide states that it was the composer himself who named the song cycle Cypresses , but as noted above, he didn’t. He titled it Love Songs . And as for the composer’s quartet arrangements of 12 of the songs, he called them, again as noted above, Echo of Songs . The only Cypresses Dvorák was familiar with, other than the trees, was the collection of poems so titled by Pfleger-Moravský. The Cypresses title was conferred upon the string quartet arrangements—and then only retroactively and by association with the songs—by the publisher of the string quartet cycle, Hudební matice umrlecké besedy, and/or the cycle’s editor, composer Josef Suk. Hans-Peter Dott surmises there are reasons Dvorák omitted the six songs—1, 5, 10, 11, 13, and 15—from his own quartet arrangements, but Dott doesn’t tells us what those reasons might have been. Instead, he decided to arrange them himself anyway, and they’re included as the last six tracks on disc 2, after Dvorák’s 12.


So, there you have it: the complete song cycle, published in 1888 as Love Songs , Dvorák’s own string quartet arrangements he titled Echo of Song , published in 1921, and a recent arrangement by Dott of the remaining six songs—all on a two-disc set boldly titled “Cypresses,” with a stand of cypress trees pictured on the cover, a title Dvorák never gave to any of these pieces. I’m not sure he’d be amused. For millennia, the cypress tree has been associated with death and mourning—which is why it’s often found planted around cemeteries—not with the pain of rejected love, the subject of these songs. The music can be quite lovely, if a bit overly sentimental, but the singers and players exercise care not to succumb to some of its more self-pitying moments. While tenor Marcus Ullmann and baritone Martin Bruns deliver their respective songs with warmth of feeling and a good measure of tonal bloom, their voices are of a similarity of timbre and character that sometimes makes it difficult to distinguish which singer is performing which song without referring to the designated numbers in the notes.


When it comes to the string quartet arrangements, at least of the 12 made by the composer, there’s a good deal more in the way of competition, among which is a very fine reading by the Emerson Quartet. But not being familiar with every recording of the quartet versions listed, I can’t say whether any ensemble has previously included the additional six arrangements made by Dott, and Hänssler’s album note is not forthcoming on when Dott made them. If it was very recently, perhaps even for the Bennewitz Quartet and this recording, then this could be a first.


Neither the songs nor the quartet arrangements of them represent Dvorák at his best. One might even say that musically they are Dvorák before he blossomed into the Dvorák we know and love. All of the pieces are of sameness in tempo and mood, without much in the way of Dvorák’s later melodic inspiration or harmonic inventiveness to make any one of them particularly memorable. For that, of course, the singers and players are not to blame. So, recommended on the grounds that this may be the most complete recording of Dvorák’s “cypress”-based compositions collected together in a single set.


FANFARE: Jerry Dubins

Classical Music

Hänssler CLASSIC is proud to present Helmuth Rilling's landmark recording of the complete Bach Cantatas in a new, specially-price collector's edition. Rilling was the first conductor to ever record the complete Bach cantatas and still, 25 years after they were first released in celebration of the Bach tercentennial in 1985, they remain the standard by which all other interpretations are judged.

Praise for some of the original recordings that make up this set:

Complete Cantatas
"There is no question as to the excellence and distinction of many of Rilling's soloists, which feature a number of famous Bach specialists of the last quartet of a century...Rilling has proved a pragmatist in matters of historical performance practice; he adopts brisk tempos and light accents at times, but allows himself considerable expressive and agogic freedom." – Penguin Guide [2003/4 Edition]

In particular, Rilling's unaffectedly musical, period-performance-influenced but undogmatic approach seems designed to sustain long-term listener satisfaction. He's so strong in the basic qualities that matter most. For example, he has the best soloists of any major series of Bach vocal works--names like Arlene Auger, Juliane Banse, Matthias Goerne, Christophe Prégardien, Christine Schäfer--the list reads like a "who's who" of major late-20th-century singers. The choral singing also is uniformly superb.

– David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Christmas Cantatas
The intensity of colour and expression in these works is stunning – the surging, brass-capped elation of Unser Mund sei voll Lachens, so full of the simple joy of the Christian message, the searching meditation on temptation in Selig ist der Mann, the seemingly bottomless well of spiritual sustenance plumbed in the chorale conclusions. Rilling’s performances (on modern instruments) are neatly tailored and naturally benevolent in nature, buoyant with the wholesomeness and warmth that this great music so frequently emanates. There is simply no better way of celebrating a musical Christmas.

– Terry Blain, BBC Music Magazine

Secular Cantatas
I'm not sure whether Helmuth Rilling has acquired a reputation for seriousness, though his recorded legacy—crowned by his complete Bach sacred cantatas series—has tended toward music of high purpose; for a primarily choral conductor, it couldn't be otherwise. Nevertheless, he shows a light touch on this disc that is in keeping with this music's intent to entertain. Rilling continues to buck trends. His instruments are modern, and his choir is relatively large (49 voices) but always precise and flexible. He does not always forsake velocity, as collectors of the sacred cantatas series will recall: Pales's wonderful second aria and its appended instrumental interlude skip smartly along. "Sheep" obeys the speed limit, but just barely. As usual, Rilling has assembled a splendid set of young soloists, who not only sing well but also get with the action.

– George Chien, Fanfare

Classical Music

Classical Music

Classical Music

Outstanding soloists: Donna Brown (Soprano), Gilles Cachemaille (Bass-Baritone) - A further reference recording of Helmuth Rilling and his Stuttgarter Ensembles Gächinger Kantorei and Bach-Collegium belonging to the series “Great Choral Works“ - „Brahms-singing with predictive dimension and forcefullness but in the same way deeply human in each phrase“ Fono Forum This "Requiem" is not based on the familiar text of the Catholic funeral mass, but is instead sensitively and knowledgably assembled from text from the Old and New Testaments by Brahms himself. Indeed, it was not his intention to pattern his Requiem after the Latin mass for the dead, nor to proclaim what he felt were false hopes for resurrection. Instead, “Ein deutsches Requiem” is a work of consolation for those left behind. This aspect is particularly emphasized in Helmuth Rilling’s moving interpretation. Donna Brown (soprano) and Gilles Cachemaille (baritone) are the outstanding vocal soloists, delivering well-profiled performances that are perfectly integrated into the overall balance of sound. Together with his regular collaborators, the Gächinger Kantorei Stuttgart and the Bach-Collegium Stuttgart, Rilling delivers a performance full of gravitas that effectively reconciles the themes of death and mourning with a transcendent sense of spiritual consolation with a sense of immediacy seldom encountered in other performances.

The night has always been a time of enchantment; embodying the uncanny, but also the romantic side of human existence. For this Hänssler Classic release Jenny Lin has selected a program of night pieces that speak to both the sensual and more complex psychological aspects of nocturnal experiences – from Debussy’s "Clair de lune" to Arthur Lourié‘s "A Phoenix Park Nocturne" to Liszt's "Liebestraum" she evokes sounds, dancing, romance, far from everyday experiences, whispering of things hidden from the light of day. She evokes thoughts and visions from a shadowy realm that draws us into our inner world. A dramatically styled CD, expressive of human longing for the nocturnal side. - Hänssler Classic, (Translated from German)

There seems to be no plan at Hänssler to record all of the CPE Bach keyboard concertos on modern piano, but the three volumes that pianist Michael Rische has released thus far have been splendid, and generally superior to the competition from Miklós Spányi on BIS if only because Rische takes the composer at his word when he demands a really quick Allegro assai (Wq. 46 finale) or Allegro di Molto (Wq. 22). As in previous releases in the series, Rische offer two concertos with orchestra plus one from the group of six, Wq. 43, in the composer’s arrangement for piano solo.

Bach designed these latter works for popular consumption: they belong to his “easy” pieces, both technically (not really) and in terms of their moderate length and less weird than usual harmonic syntax. However, this doesn’t mean that the music is in any way bland or boring. Even in the brief central Adagio, only two and a half minutes long, Bach spins out a curiously affecting, consistently intriguing melodic line. Really, the man couldn’t write a boring keyboard piece if he wanted to.
Aside from the brilliant, early-ish D minor Concerto Wq. 22, the other major work is the double concerto in F major, Wq. 46, in which Rische is joined by Rainer Maria Klaas to make up a richly sonorous duo. There is only one other double concerto by Bach, specifically written for harpsichord and piano, which appears on the BIS complete cycle, but this wonderful piece deserves to be hugely more popular than it is. At twenty five minutes it’s a major work, with horns added to the string orchestra, and it would grace any concerto program.
As in previous releases in this series, the playing sparkles in the outer movements, and reveals a whole winning lyricism and sentiment in the central slow ones. Rische exploits the capacity of the modern piano fully, but always tastefully and stylishly, in the service of the music. The playing of the Kammersymphonie Leipzig is also excellent, here without conductor, unlike the earlier releases. First rate.
-- David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

Classical Music

Classical Music